Close Encounters
by Elandil
Summary: When Sherlock was brought into the strange electrocution case, what he did not expect to find was two genius children with unnatural abilities. Nor did he expect to be dragged into an intergalactic plot with the fate of the earth hanging in the balance. After all, there was always something... (contains characters from DW and TW as well)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I know, yet another story from me, but this time I have an excuse… well, not really, I just wanted to write it. Anyway, for this, my beta is the adorable Ingradera who kindly agreed to read through my god awful spelling errors and typos. You are a saint! Any mistakes left over are mine and I apologise. Anyway, on with the story.**

* * *

Stepping quickly down the halls, coat flaring out behind him as he went, Sherlock allowed his mind to spin off down which ever direction it so desired. This new case was interesting, intriguing in its complexity and would have been the perfect puzzle if it had only made the slightest bit of _sense, _but none of the clues were adding up in a way which he could accept. It was like trying to play chess with mah-jong pieces or Cluedo with Jacks instead of cards, no matter how much he tried to piece the different pieces of evidence together, they just would not create a bigger picture; the normal streams of information where blocked and dried up as though the absurdity of this particular case had placed a dam through them. It was infuriating!.. Yet at the same time, immensely fascinating.

When he had first been called onto the scene, some back alley slum filled with rubbish and broken needles, the case had seem clear cut and simple enough to work out, for him anyway. Burns on the man's hands that had been made pre-mortem and residual static electricity suggested that the wire he had been clutching close to his chest had been live. Suicide. Simple and entirely undeserving of his attention… or so he had thought.

Cross examination showed that, although a large charge _had_ passed through the wire at the approximate time of death and, in fact, had been the _cause_ of death, all signs indicated that the surge had come _from_ the victim himself, through his hands, and into the wire as a way out. However, there was no other possible explanation, the man had clearly died from heart failure caused by a surplus of energy supplied to the pace maker cells in the heart which lead to arrhythmia and, obviously, ended in a heart attack. Electrocution was the only possible reason for these symptoms, but it just wouldn't fit with the evidence no matter which angle he stared at it from.

Then there was the victim himself, no records of him could be found at all, not even dental or medical ones which was statistically improbably given the age of the man. Even Mycroft had drawn a blank when it came to the man's identity, for the first time in history. There was absolutely no evidence of the man at all, no facial recognition on any cameras, no bank account, not even a shopping receipt, it was almost like he had not even existed until he turned up dead on the street one day. But that could not be possible.

Taking a deep breath, he stopped outside one of the interrogation rooms in Scotland Yard, allowing his hand to rest loosely on the chilled metal handle of the reinforced door. He had been called into the station because Lestrade had finally managed to track down the two figures that had been seen running into the alley way on the CCTV cameras fixed across the street from the crime scene (tough the victim had not even been found on these tapes either) and had brought them in for questioning.

After another moment to compose himself from the mad dash over from Baker Street, something he would never admit to if questioned, the consulting detective straightened his spine and squared his shoulders to ensure he struck an intimidating figure as he stepped into the room only to stop when he spotted two… _children_ sitting behind the table.

The boy was older, obviously, a student at the local university though he should not have been old enough to attend yet, so he was smart, more than that, he was a supposed genius. Despite the situation he was currently in, the boy wore a look of resigned acceptance with a slight hint of amusement as though he had not really been expecting to be brought into the police headquarters for questioning, but he didn't really mind. Innocent then… or confident that there was not enough evidence to point towards him if not... Sherlock did not have enough data to decide either way yet.

The girl beside him though was making no effort at all to hide her excitement at her surroundings, all but vibrating in her seat and clutching the boy's… probably a relative as no family would allow a 13 year old to visit London on her own… arm tighter. Curiously, before and after answering any question, she would look at his face as though seeking approval. They were hiding something then. Either that, or the girl had a brother complex the size of the British Isles, though that was unlikely.

Seeing him enter the room, Lestrade edged over to Sherlock, a file clasped in his hand as he turned to watch the other officer continue the questioning, leaning back on the wall even as he tilted himself closer to the consulting detective to whisper.

"Luke and Sky Smith, adopted children of Sarah-Jane Smith the investigative journalist who is famous for exposing illegal dealings of corporate giants."

At this, Sherlock nodded, he had heard of the woman's work, even followed some of her cases whenever he was bored enough. She was smart, determined and, when he looked back over some of her reports, he couldn't help but admire her deductive reasoning and he knew for a fact that Mycroft kept a close eye on the woman's cases for his own entertainment, even if he would never admit to it.

Subsequently, as they had helped her many times in her cases, Sherlock had also come across mention of her two adopted children Luke and Sky, though he had never seen a picture of them before due to the fact that Miss Smith had been adamant that they were too young to be exposed to the media circus. Though that would make the case more interesting if they were who they said they were.

"Luke is a student living on the campus not far from the crime scene, apparently his sister had come to stay with him for a short while and they had gone out for a walk. They haven't mentioned why they were in such a place at 3 O'clock in the morning, but I can't really see either of them doing it. Apparently they don't even know who the victim was. Say he wasn't there when they walked through. They're not even witnesses, though we need to make sure."

"They entered into the alley at the predicted time of death and didn't see a single thing? And they are refusing to explain why they were there in the first place? Honestly Lestrade, I would have thought that you would have more intelligence than that. Just look at the girl, she's hiding something for sure."

He all but hissed at the older man, glaring darkly at the girl who was still bouncing on her seat looking like nothing more than a hyperactive child, or she would have, if she didn't keep clenching her left hand over and over, like she was remembering something. Still, the DI seemed completely oblivious to this blatant tell, only looking at him askance.

"Sherlock, she's just a kid, and a tiny one at that. How could she have possibly done that to a grown man?"

Irritated, the taller man pushed away from the wall and stalked towards the table, hunching his shoulders slightly. He didn't know how a child could have done that to an adult, he didn't even know what _that _was, but he intended to find out and to do that he needed to remove himself from the DI's mother hening. Sometimes George's parental instincts could be a major annoyance on cases. Sherlock wouldn't even be that surprised if he left the room only to return to the older man offering the girl a mug of hot chocolate and tucking her into bed.

* * *

Sky couldn't help but grin as she noticed the tall man step into the room, she recognised him as the man from the website Clyde had shown her the other day. Sherlock Holmes. Apparently he was the best detective in London, possibly England, and it was interesting to meet him at last, though Luke seemed to tense even more than he already had at his presence.

All the police men did too. It looked like they didn't like the detective much, but she couldn't really understand why. If he was solving all those cases for them, wasn't he a good guy? Why would they not like him if he helped them so much? Maybe they were jealous... like those girls at school who picked on Rhani because she always looked better than them without even trying? Humans were confusing.

It was annoying that the officer in front of her kept asking her questions about the night before; she had to keep checking in with Luke to make sure that she hadn't said something wrong. It wasn't as though she was scared of them figuring out that she had lost control and sent a jolt of electricity into the man when he had tried to strangle her that night, but she wasn't too sure that these people knew about aliens, so they probably wouldn't realise that it was simply a modified version of a psychic slave. She hadn't killed it, for that it would have to have been alive to begin with, but the electricity had cut off the mental link so the slave became useless. They never did find out who sent it.

Luke said it had been too easy to hunt down the cause of all the disappearances (well, they say disappearances, the people always turned up about 3 days later with no memory of what had happened to them, or that they had even been gone) and that it should have been harder as the signal was so guarded and hard to crack in the first place. To her, it didn't really matter either way, they had caught the bad guy, so what did the reason behind it matter?

The detective started walking towards them, snapping Sky out of her thoughts as she tightened her grip on Luke's arm, feeling him tense beneath her grip. He was probably worried that Mr Holmes would be able to see through them, but it was unlikely, he prided himself on being a man of logic, he wouldn't even consider the possibility of aliens and special abilities. Dr Watson even wrote that his flatmate didn't even know about the solar system after all, so how would he know about what really happened?

Smiling sweetly in the way that always seemed to make all the adults around her softer and easier to speak with (manipulate), she turned to the Detective who she had been following from the corner of her eyes since he had entered the room, making it clear that he had her full attention.

"Hello Mr Holmes."

From the scowl on his face, he wasn't best pleased by her greeting, though it had been perfectly polite, and Mr Smith had told her that everyone appreciated people being polite to them. Instead of answering with a greeting of his own, he slumped into the empty chair opposite her across the table and stared fixedly at her face. He looked like he was about to say something, but he was cut off by Luke laughing beside her.

"You think Sky did it? How would that even be possible?"

Instead of joining in the laughter as Sky had expected him to do, Mr Holmes leaned back in his chair, glaring at the both of them darkly over his steeped fingers tapping a strange beat onto the floor with his foot subconsciously... the rhythm was actually quite catchy.

"No Mr Smith, I believe that both of you did it, in fact, I know you did. I'm still working on the how though. Would you care to give me a hint, it was rather ingenious."

Sky couldn't help but giggle at the way that Luke flinched at being called Mr Smith, but it looked like the situation was really serious if they were going to be treated as suspected murderers. Sarah-Jane was going to flip when she found out about it, they were supposed to have come to London to stay _out_ of trouble, but, oh well. This was much more fun after all.

* * *

**Thanks for reading, the question is gonna work the same way as all my other stories so enjoy!**

* * *

**Question from the beta :D**

**What were Sarah-Jane's parents called?**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: okay, sorry, for the delay but exam season has a habit of sneaking up on you, foul things that the exams are. Anyway, this chapter is for ****sjsmatee101**** with cookies for the ****guest**** who got the right answer!**

**Once more, thanks go to my lovely beta Ingradera who somehow manages to put up with me and my spelling mistakes.**

**EDIT: THIS CHAPTER WAS RE-VAMPED ON THE 29th SEPTEMBER 2015 AND WILL SOON COME OFF HIATUS**

* * *

~3 years later~

To the detective's everlasting annoyance, he had never been able to finish that case and it was a thought that still needled him even to this day, especially as there was no explanation as to why it had gone cold in the first place. All he knew was that, one moment he had been interrogating the Smith siblings in the room as he would with any other witness, and the next, Lestrade had come in all red faced and flustered claiming that the case had been wiped from their computers and that orders from on high had explicitly stated that they drop the investigation.

At first, he had suspected his brother had decided to punish him for some inane reason again, but Mycroft hadn't known a thing about it at the time, and when he had looked, his clearance hadn't been high enough to access the files relating to the case which was a shock to them both. Mycroft Holmes had the highest clearance in the country; he was never denied access to anything! Of course, that just worked to make the case all the more interesting to both of the brothers and they had both kept their eyes open since that moment, leading them to discover that this was not an isolated incident. In fact, it seemed that events like this were rather common, and impeccably well hidden. As such, that one unsolved investigation would never leave the consulting detective's mind and so, when a case was brought to him by a brown haired, blue eyed teen just over 3 years later, he recognised her instantly.

As the girl remained seated in the 'client chair' as John had dubbed it (honestly, the man had no creativity to his name, so how were his little stories so popular?) he couldn't help but look her over once again, comparing her to the child he had met back in Scotland Yard, the one who had been clinging to her brother as though everything around her was completely foreign and unknown. Now however, she sat straight and confident, proud even, and her eyes now held a defiant glint that spoke of many past battles. Her pale skin was darker than before, tanned from prolonged time out in the sun, and her hair was both longer and a little darker. If he had not been obsessing over the mysteries she seemed to bring with her for the last few years, he may not have even recognised her as the same person.

"Miss Smith, it has been a while hasn't it? Finally finished running rings around the government have you?"

He had been expecting a flinch or some other reaction to his careless revelation of her secret, but he was surprised once again when the girl only smiled up at him, the frank innocence behind it making her look far more like the child she had once been than the grim line her face had held before.

"You're one to talk about upsetting the government Mr Holmes. Tell me, has your brother given up on trying to access my file yet or is he still trying to hack into it? I must admit, watching all of his failed attempts are quite amusing, though I feel that you might need to fear for his sanity soon. After all, he does keep repeating the same actions and expecting a different result."

Ah, so she was aware of that then, interesting, but not all that unexpected. One did not become a government secret without suspecting even the smallest hint of it. Off to his left he heard John make some sort of sound to display his confusion over how familiar the two of them seemed with each other and he remembered that the first encounter had been about 2 months before he had moved in with the ex-army doctor, but he quickly put that thought out of his mind, it didn't matter.

"Oh, he says he has given up the attempt to avoid raising any red flags that may harm his reputation, but I would bet that he is still trying some… less conventional methods. As much as he may like to use the flaw against me exclusively, I am not the only one unable to back down from a challenge. But I doubt that you are here to idly chat about such well kept secrets so then… why are you here?"

He had noticed when the teenager had first walked in that she had been tense and had settled in a stance that was both casual but ready for an attack at any time, but while they had been exchanging barbed comments, and before that when she had been conversing about trivial nonsense with John, she had begun to relax her stiff posture. Now however, the battle ready tension seemed to snap back all at once and her back became ramrod straight, her eyes darting around the room as though listing every single point of entrance and escape. It was a reflex that tended to unnerve normal people, but Sherlock had been around too many spies both under his brother's employ and not, that he was easily able to ignore it.

Once the girl had finished her speedy, though most definitely thorough, examination of the flat, her attention flicked back to the detective, fixing him with a piercing gaze that made him want to flinch, though he managed to control the urge just in time. Those eyes that had looked as clear as the sky she was named after just a few moments ago where now dark and stormy with emotions that were bubbling just below the surface.

"They say you're the best there is Mr Holmes… and that you are always up for the weird cases... the ones that make no sense?"

If Sherlock's attention hadn't already been held completely by the girl before him, it would have been after that comment. At the first part, he internally preened under the praise, but at the second, his curiosity was piqued. A girl who makes no sense had come to offer him a case that confused even her… that had the makings of and excellent distraction.

"I don't know who the 'they' is that you have been talking to Miss Smith, but it sounds like they knew what they were saying. What sort of case can you offer me other than your own?"

At the last bit, it looked as though the girl had had to fight back the urge to roll her eyes in exasperation, though her lips did twitch slightly all the same. Still, it was several minutes before she spoke again, the emotions flicking across her face far too fast for the genius to read and with such contrasting extremes that it seemed like she was fighting a war inside herself. When she finally did respond, her eyes were fixed pointedly on a spot on the floor, refusing to meet the curious gaze of the detective and the compassionate one of the doctor.

"You know of my mum right? The journalist: Sarah-Jane Smith. You mentioned her last time. Well, now she's gone missing and we can't find her. No note, no call, even the GPS on her phone isn't helping. It's like she just vanished off of the face of the planet but that can't be right..."

The girl seemed to trail off there but Sherlock, who had been sitting closer to the wooden chair she was seated on heard what sounded like a muttered '_she would have called first_' at the end of the sentence, though that made no sense. If what he had heard was true, then Sky seemed to be assuming that it was possible for people to leave the planet whenever they wanted, but that simply wasn't true… was it? He really needed to find a way into her files after this. Instead of letting on that he had heard this whispered statement however, he simply leaned back in his chair, pressing his fingers together to form a steeple in front of his face.

"You said that the case made no sense, but this seems fairly simple. Your mother is a journalist, she may have caught sight of a case she wanted to pursue and, in her haste, forgot to leave a message. If she was in an area where there was no cell signal, then she would not be able to call and the GPS would be dodgy at best. Leave it a day or two before you become too worried about her. Honestly, she let you wonder around London alone at the age of 13 why would she care over much about leaving you alone now?"

There was more to the case, he was sure of it. From what he had seen of Sky and her brother in their interrogation all those years ago, they were both remarkably intelligent, simple logic like this would have occurred to the two of them almost instantly, yet the girl had still come to seek him out meaning that there was more to this case than she was currently letting on. By acting so nonchalant about an event that was clearly upsetting the girl to this extent, he hoped to get her to lower her guard through anger and then let slip something that would help him get to the bottom of her mystery. John, however, didn't seem to share his thoughts on the matter as he sent the detective a dark glare before leaning forwards to talk to their guest, attempting to block his flatmate from the girl's sight with his body as he did so.

"Look, just, don't listen to him when he gets like that. He may be a genius, but he doesn't really get _people _if you know what I mean. He probably doesn't mean anything by it."

It was fortunate that the army doctor was facing away from his best friend at that moment as the glare coming from the detective was enough to make a grown man shudder in fear. He knew exactly what he was doing, who was John to tell anyone what Sherlock meant, when he had already communicated it by speaking. Honestly, that _was _what speech was for after all, but the girl didn't seem to be paying any attention to the pair of them either way. Instead, she was biting the inside of her cheek anxiously and her left hand kept tapping over the same spot on her right sleeve, brushing against the dark green fabric as though checking to make sure that whatever rested there remained so. The look of intense concentration on her face soon shifted into one of acute resignation after a moment however, and she finally deemed it necessary to look up and meet the eyes of those before her. In contrast the expression on her face, the look in her eyes was one of steely determination.

"If I tell you something, will you promise to listen through to the end no matter how insane it seems? I know it is a little hard to accept some things, but I can assure you that what I will tell you is true, but you won't be able to tell it to anyone else!"

Now _that _was interesting. If she was stressing so much on the idea that what she wanted to tell them wasn't so much unpalatable as unbelievable, then it must be something important… and the idea that he might finally be able to see what was so secret about this girl and her family was enough to get the consulting detective hooked. Add in the fact that he would know something that his overbearing brother would not be allowed to know, then there was nothing on earth that could stop him from hearing the girl out.

Noticing his intense look in her direction, Sky seemed to resolve herself once again. Taking a deep breath and pushing herself further up in her chair she looked him directly in the eye.

"Well then Mr Holmes, tell me, what do you know about aliens?"

* * *

**HELLO! Ingradera here. Personally, I think that Elandil owes me many, many sugary drinks in payment of checking this, but she won't. No matter how much i beg. (A/N: no, they make you far too hyper!)**

**Okay I know everyone loves Benedict Cumberbatch, (and if not: are you feeling okay?) but do you know why he was chosen to play Sherlock?**

**Reviews get to hit a character of their choice!**


End file.
